You turned 29 months yesterday.  29.  That sounds so old, but when I say he’s almost 2 and a half, I realize it’s not.

My boy, you are super sick right now.  You have bronchitis.  You got sick at the end of last week, and by Tuesday, were still sick and running high fevers (102-103).  So I made an appointment for us (I’m sick too – sinus infection) and took you in.  And the doctor listened to you and informed me that you have bronchitis.  Which sucks.  So you’re on meds and hopefully getting better.

And as much as you feel like crap, I know that you also enjoy the attention you get from being sick.  Because when you’re sick, you about get away with anything.  Since you don’t have much of an appetite, your dad and I have been letting you eat just about anything you want.  And you since you get winded so easily, we’re letting you watch movies galore (I think we’ve watched Thomas the Train about 700 million times.  I’m about to go crazy).

But really, I just want you to get better.  I hate seeing you sick and not being my rambunctious little boy.  I hate that you get the chills because your fever is so high and you can’t stop shaking.  I hate that you are so tired just from playing with your cars that you need to take a 3 hour nap.

So we’ll keep watching Thomas and eating crackers and letting you rest so you can get better quickly.  And if they find a way for me to take your bronchitis and you get better, I’ll do it.

I love you more than you know,

Momma

And since we’ve made that decision, I’ve kind of been grieving.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that we’re making the best decision for our family.  I know that we cannot financially afford another child.  We can’t afford to move to a bigger house, or buy a car that can fit 4 car seats.  Or the cost of diapers, clothes, and everything else.

And physically, we don’t feel like we could be good parents to all of our kids if we had more.  As is, I feel like I barely get to spend anytime with each of my kids.  I feel like the girls don’t get held or as much attention as I’d like, that I don’t get to play with Des as much as I’d like.  I feel overwhelmed and exhausted whenever Ricky’s at work, and one more kid would just make it unbearable.

And I really don’t think we could handle my awful pregnancy with 3 kids.  I get so sick when I’m pregnant and am basically non-functioning the first 4 months.  I mean, seriously, my parents basically had to take care of Des whenever Ricky worked because I was bent over the toilet puking out my guts.  And I really don’t think they’d appreciate having to take care of 3 kids for 4 months.

But, despite all of that, despite knowing that this is the best decision for our family, I’m still a little sad.  Sad that I won’t get to experience feeling another baby kick in my womb.  Sad that I won’t get to experience the excitement and nerves that come with seeing the positive pregnancy test. Sad that I won’t get to overwhelming emotions that come with giving birth – from exhaustion and fatigue to pure joy at holding your new baby.

But I think I’m really sad that I won’t get to experience things that I didn’t get with my other pregnancies.  I never wanted to find out the sex with either pregnancy, but we found out because Ricky really wanted to with Des and because Ricky completely freaked out when I suggested not knowing what the twins were.  I’ve always wanted to experience the surprise of not knowing and finding out when the baby actually arrived. I’ve always thought it would be fun to not know, to have something remain a mystery for the entire 9 months.

And as much as it sounds crazy, I really wanted to experience a natural childbirth.  I was too scared to try it with Des, and with the girls, I was basically made to have an epidural in case of an emergency c-section.  I kept thinking that the next time I’ll get to go naturally, but now that won’t happen.  I’d would have liked to have tried that, to see if I could push through the pain.

So, I’ve been in a weird grief about it.  I’m not overtly upset, just more learning to let go of these things I had wanted and come to terms that this is it.  And as much as I’m sad, it’s also making me cling to the girls a little more.  I find myself really not wanting them to get older, to just stay these little babies for as long as possible so I can enjoy every last minute of it.  I find myself not rushing them to hurry up and nurse so we can get going to the store/park/wherever we have to go, but rather, sitting and letting them take their time.

Because I know that this is it.  This is the last time I’ll have babies to cradle, babies who want to be in my arms all the time, babies who find comfort suckling at my breasts, babies who want nothing more than to just cuddle in bed with their momma.

And I’m going to take advantage of every second of it that I can.

So the next morning, I went and got a 2 hour massage.  And it was glorious.  It was so nice to just relax and be pampered.  And as much as I love my kids, it was really nice to just have 2 hours by myself.  Two hours to just rest and relax, to not worry about someone crying or getting hurt or needing to have their diaper changed.

So I made sure to enjoy every minute.  I took my time getting to my appointment and I took my time getting home.  I almost fell asleep during my massage and just enjoyed the fact that I could nap if I wanted to.

And on top of it all, Ricky already paid in advance for me to have another hour long massage.

Seriously, I have such a great husband.

But once we got in there, the nurse practitioner started talking to me about UTIs in kids under a year, what they mean, and what the underlying cause is.  For about 10-15% of kids, it’s just a random, one-time infection.  But for 85-90%, it’s a result of vesiocoureteral reflux.  Basically, your urine is supposed to travel from your kidneys down your ureter tubes into your bladder.  There are sphincters that close off your ureter in your bladder to prevent the urine from going back up to your kidneys.  With reflux, those sphincters don’t close and the urine goes back up, causing an infection.

In order for them to determine if Scarlett has reflux, they’d have to do a VCUG.  They put a catheter in, fill her bladder with dye, and then watch to see if the dye travels up to her kidneys.  All while she’s awake.  Wide awake.

If she does have reflux, they want her to be on an antibiotic every day to prevent her from getting infections.  It’s a very low dose (about a fourth of the normal dose for her age) and is made to go straight to her kidneys.  If she were to continue getting infections with the antibiotics, then they’d start more invasive procedures, eventually leading to surgery as the last resort. If she doesn’t get infections, then she’d stay on the antibiotics until she’s potty-trained.

So, after hearing all of this, which, let’s be honest, was overwhelming since I had thought we’d just be in and out of there, I went home and called Ricky (he was working).  I told him what the nurse practitioner said and we decided to call our normal pediatrician to get a second opinion.

And after talking with him, we decided to hold off on giving her antibiotics or doing the VCUG.  If she gets another infection, then we’ll go forward and do those steps.  But we don’t really want to put her through unnecessary procedures or on medicines if it was just a one-time infection.  Plus, with catheters, there’s always a risk of getting a UTI.  So if we do the VCUG, she could get another infection.

But, since we’re holding off, we have to really watch her and make sure she’s not getting an infection.  If she shows the slightest symptoms, especially a fever, we have to take her in right away to get her urine cultured.

So we went with that decision.  Then, this past Saturday, Scarlett started running a low grade fever.  She was irritable and definitely didn’t feel well.  So, after watching her for a few hours, I decided to take her to the ER.  She checked her out, put a bag on her to catch her urine, and once she went, sent it to the lab for results.  And about 45 minutes later, the doctor came in with the results.

She was clear.  Her urine was perfect and didn’t have any traces of an infection.  She probably was teething or getting a virus (turned out to be teething).

So I bundled her up and took her home.  But since then, I’ve been vacillating on whether or not we’re making the right choice to hold off on the VCUG.  I really don’t want to put her through anything that’s not needed, but at the same time, I don’t want to have to take her to the doctor’s or the ER every time she runs a fever.  I don’t want her to be constantly prodded and poked every time she doesn’t feel good because we’re afraid it’s the start of an infection.

And to be honest, there’s a part of me that’s terrified that I’m not going to see the symptoms until it’s a full blown infection.  That I won’t notice her getting sick until the infection is in her kidneys and she’s got a 103 fever again.  And I don’t want to put her through that or do any damage to her kidneys.

But I also don’t want to give her antibiotics every day if she doesn’t need them and risk her building up an immunity to them.  I don’t want to make her have diarrhea from the antibiotics or have to be in pain from the catheter.

So basically, I don’t know what to do.  I think we’re going to continue to hold off because, as of right now, it seems like the lesser of two evils.

Sometimes, I really wish there was a manual for this whole parenting thing.

I debated it for a few minutes, then figured, what the hell. So I gave him a half a piece of gum. And he chomped away. I told him repeatedly to tell me when he was done because he needed to spit the gum out. I explained about 80 times how we don’t swallow our gum, that it’s not to eat.

And Des nodded along. He told me OK. He would spit out the gum when he was done.

We continued to chat the whole way home. And he kept chewing that gum.

Then we pulled up to the house. And I got out and asked for his gum.

It was gone. He swallowed it.

So much for that. Maybe next time?

Anyway, we got there early (shocking, I know) and I unpacked all the kids.  Des immediately took off the for the jungle gym and started playing with the other kids that were there.

As I unpacked the girls and set them up, my friend called to tell me that they weren’t going to make it.  Her neighbor had had a medical emergency and needed her to take care of the kids.  I told her I completely understood, offered to come help her (but she didn’t really need my help), and hung up.

And then I thought, “oh shit.”

See, when I take the kids to the park, I am dependent on having another adult there to help me.  It’s literally like a tag-team effort.  I might deal with the girls while my friend watches/helps Des and her daughter.  Or she’ll deal with the girls while I help the older kids.  Or we each take a baby and help the older kids together.  And if I have to feed the girls, she’ll burp whoever’s done first and still help the older kids while I nurse.  It’s nothing something I’ve ever thought I could do alone.

So when she said she couldn’t make it, I kind of panicked.  I knew Des would freak if we left 5 minutes after arriving and really felt that wasn’t fair to him (I mean seriously, how mean of me would that have been?  Hey kid, I know you’ve been dying to go to the park like all freaking week, but now we’re leaving. I wouldn’t have blamed the kid if he screamed his head off).  So I decided to stay at least 30 minutes.

I needed to feed the girls when I got there, so I sat down on the grass with them while Des played in the sand with his shovel.  He made friends with an older boy (probably around 5-6) and that kid was a freaking lifesaver.  While I fed the girls, he played with Des, helping him dig tunnels and showing him how to build little mountains.  Des was infatuated with him and followed that boy (his name was Samuel) everywhere.  And thankfully, Samuel had a little sister around Des’ age.  So Samuel knew to be careful with Des and help him and only do things Des was capable of.  Seriously, that kid was amazing.

And once I finished feeding the girls, Scarlett happily played in her car seat while I held Isla (she was being fussy).  And once Samuel left (about 5 minutes after I finished feeding the girls), I helped Des climb the jungle gym and play in the sand.

So we ended up staying over an hour.  AN HOUR, people.  I know it’s just an hour, but seriously, you have no idea what a big deal that is.  I honestly didn’t think we would last the first 30 minutes.  So to be able to stay that long and have Des play and not be completely overwhelmed that I was there alone was freaking awesome.

I have no plans to try it again anytime soon.  I know that it was probably just a freak event where the stars aligned and my kids decided to all cooperate and the wonderful Samuel was there to entertain Des for a short time and that if I were to try it again, it would end with meltdowns for me and the kids.  But just knowing that I could do it;  that if I had to go alone, that if no one was there to help me, I could probably do it, was the most amazing feeling in the world.

And that’s when I realized that this is what superheros must feel like.

She was so kind as to take some pictures of my kids during one of our play dates.  And I love these pictures.  I’ve talked about how the one of Scarlett is just the epitome of her for me, but all of these photos are amazing.  And not just because they’re of my kids (though that obviously makes them a million times better to me).  I just love the way Sarah photographs and how she captures the subject.

I love this one of Des.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a really crappy photographer.  I don’t have any patience, and sitting there, trying to capture the subject in the right light at the right moment, especially with little kids and babies, would drive me insane.  As is, most of the pictures I have of my kids are from my phone because I’m too lazy to bust out our camera.  And when I do, I just snap away and hope I get some good ones in there.

Scarlett

Isla

Scarlett

So to have these photos of my kids, it really means a lot to me.  I know that even if I’m never able to take a good picture of them, I’ll at least have these.  And these are better than anything I could take.

Isla

Scarlett

Isla

I guess I probably should have warned Sarah that I’ll now be bugging her constantly to take pictures of my kids.  Or my family.  You know, cause it’s not like she’s busy or anything. 

Happy 7 months, girls!  Things around here have been crazy lately, thus why I’m writing a joint letter you to girls.  I’d love to write you each an individual letter, but sometimes, life just gets too hectic.  Plus, this letter is over a week late, so I just wanted to get something down before you hit 8 months.

Girls, you are growing so fast! You both can roll from 360 degrees. And you both love to roll.  You guys will roll all over the house, bonking into the walls, couches, toys, and each other.  You never seem to tire of it and love it.  You both are starting to scoot a little, but Scarlett definitely is closer to crawling.  Scars, you are trying so hard to get up on all fours, but haven’t quite gotten there yet.  Sometimes I help you get up, and you love it.  You’ll wobble there for a few minutes, try to move forward, and just plop down.  But you laugh and smile.

Isley, you’re not quite there yet.  You will occasionally try to pull your legs under you, but for the most part, you’re just happy to scoot on your tummy.  When I do help you, you usually won’t lift up your head and just fall back down.  And you don’t like it.  But I know that once you both figure it out, you two will be non-stop going.  So I’m okay with you taking your time.

You girls are both also trying to pull yourselves up in your cribs.  You both will scoot over to the rails, and try so hard to pull yourselves into the sitting position.  You haven’t quite done it yet, but I’m terrified for when you do.  I know it’s going to be crazy and I won’t be able to turn my back on either of you for a second.

Ladybugs, by far, the cutest thing about you guys this month has been how excited you get to see each other.  When you guys spot each other, you both light up and start smiling and giggling.  You both are so happy to see one another and love to play together.  In fact, if one of you is upset, I’ll bring your sister over to play with you and whoever was unhappy is now suddenly in the best mood ever.  I love it.  I love seeing how much you guys love each other and want to hang out.  It seriously makes my heart so happy and brings me more joy than you’ll know.  I hope you guys continue to feel that way.

Neither one of you has a tooth yet, and to be honest, it’s driving me crazy.  You have been teething since you were about 3.5 months, and there’s nothing.  Nada.  Not even a hint of a tooth about to pop through.  Having to hear you guys fuss and cry from the pain is awful, and I really just want these damn teeth to get out already.  Even if it means I might have some teeth marks in my nipples after feeding you.

Girls, I really do love you both so much.  I’m constantly amazed by you both and feel so lucky to be your Momma.

I love you more than you know,

Momma

You turned 28 months over a week ago.  I’m so sorry this letter is so late, but things around here have been insane.  Between your sister’s UTI and all of us being sick, I just haven’t had a moment to sit down and write this to you.  And I apologize for that.

My boy, I love you so much, but lately, you have really been testing your limits with us.  You are constantly seeing what you can get away with and at what point your Dad and I are going to start freaking out.  And I gotta say, dealing with this has been exhausting.  You fight us on everything, whether it’s taking a bath, putting on shoes, eating your food (even food you like), or letting us change your diaper.  And as much as I know that this is natural, that it’s just a part of childhood, I gotta say, I really don’t like it.  I’m not the most patient person in the world (you’ll figure this out soon, if you haven’t already) and dealing with a kid who is refusing to listen to me and do as he told drives me crazy.  And because of this, because you want to see what you can get away with, you’ve been spending lots of time in timeouts.

And this is something you hate. You hate when we make you go to your room and sit in there for all of 2 minutes.  You cry and yell and act as if we’re murdering you.  And I hate that you feel that way.  I don’t want to go through this, and I really don’t like disciplining you, but I know it’s something that’s needed and has to be done.

But, in happier news, you are really grasping colors, numbers, and letters.  You still haven’t mastered your ABC’s, but you can recognize certain letters (like S and A) and will point them out to us.  You also know the basic colors and love to tell them to us.  And just a few weeks ago, I overheard you counting to 10 all by yourself.  Honestly, the way I reacted, you would have thought that you just cured cancer.  I whooped and hollered and told you over and over again how amazing and smart you are.  Then, when I tried to get you to count with me, you refused.  And you refused to count for your dad for weeks.  But we’ve both heard you again now and you’ll count with us (sometimes), so we’re happy about that.

You’ve also become a master at telling your sisters apart and will inform people who is who.  You also like to talk to them, telling them good morning sister when you wake up, and giving them kisses.  You’ve also realized that you can reach in and hit whatever sister is sitting next to you in the car, so we’ve had to keep a closer eye on you.  But overall, you’re very gentle with them and love to help out with them (something I greatly appreciate).

My love, every month, I’m amazed by you.  I’m shocked by how much you grow, how much you learn, how well you speak, how easily you understand things.  Watching you grow has been by far the greatest adventure of my life – and I’ve loved every minute of it.

So keep growing, my boy, and thanks for letting us tag along for the journey.

We love you more than you know,

Momma and Daddy

My friend Tiffany told me about the show a while ago, but I just never really had time to check it out.  Then it was brought to Hulu, and the other night, Ricky clicked on it to watch it.  And we’ve become obsessed with it.  Every night when the kids go to bed, we sit down with a snack (usually Mexican hot chocolate and toast, which are our other newest obsessions lately) and watch an episode.  There are only 6 or so episodes a season, so we’ve already gotten through the first season.  And we loved it.  We were cracking up.

So if you’re looking for a funny, interesting show to watch, I highly recommend it.  But just a warning for you modest folks, it’s a little vulgar and sexual at times.

Anyway, I gotta go.  We’re going to go start season 2.